


I Followed my Heart and it Led me to the Rink

by untiltheyfindtheperfectgirl



Category: IT (2017), IT - Stephen King
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-07
Updated: 2018-02-25
Packaged: 2019-03-01 20:41:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13302789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/untiltheyfindtheperfectgirl/pseuds/untiltheyfindtheperfectgirl
Summary: Random skating AUEddie figure skates while Richie plays hockey.idk





	1. Chapter 1

“Next on the ice, the 17-year-old with the tightest ass in figure skating, Mr. Spaghetti Kaspbrak. This smoke show consistently ‘wow’s the judges with his triple bypasses and holy sow-cows!” 

Eddie jaw clenched as he passed the edge of the rink where Richie stood with his team, dressed for the team’s pre-game warm-up, using his loud announcers voice. Eddie continued his crossovers around the edge of the rink, rolling his eyes but ignoring Richie purposefully using the wrong names for figure skating terms.

Knowing that his early morning practice was coming to an end and that a crowd was steadily growing in preparation for the Derry junior hockey game, Eddie decided to put on a bit of a show. He had spent a majority of the morning working on some footwork with his coach but had quickly grown bored of it. Eddie much preferred gliding across the ice at top speeds and performing complicated jumps and spins. 

“And look at those legs move! Dear audience, you don’t even understand how strong those thighs truly are,” Richie continued as Eddie went into a double axel jump, casually landing with his arms outstretched and his middle fingers raised in Richie’s direction causing the curly haired boy to roar with laughter while some of the parents in the bleachers made a noise of disapproval. “And the world-renowned Edward Spaghedward finishes with a flawless triple toe as he approaches his highly paid hockey player husband, Mr. Richard Tozier.” 

“Shut the fuck up, Rich,” Eddie laughed as he stopped a few inches from the side of the boards, virtually zero ice spraying as a result of the move, unlike when Richie would obnoxiously skate full tilt towards Eddie and then perform a sudden hockey stop, spraying Eddie with a ridiculous amount of ice. It was a skill he had honed over the years, practicing with his teammates to see who could create the largest spray. 

Eddie grasped the top of the boards, pushing himself up with his arms to meet Richie’s lips which were much higher than usual as Richie was on hockey skates. 

“Edward!” 

“Just a sec!” Eddie hollered over his shoulder towards his coach, arms still extended to push his body up the side of the boards.

“You’re ruining our ice, Spaghetti,” Richie joked, pointing out the divots in the ice from Eddie’s toe picks and hard landings over the last two hours. 

“It’s my ice for another ten minutes, Tozier,” Eddie mumbled, worrying Richie’s bottom lip between his teeth before pulling away to begin skating backwards towards his coach. 

“So hot,” Richie breathed, causing the players standing closest to him to laugh. 

Everyone who had ever set foot in the Derry local rink knew about Richie and Eddie’s relationship. It was almost impossible not to as the boys were constantly at the rink and were almost always there together. There were few places the couple hadn’t been caught making out, not that they were trying to hide it. 

Stan often shoo-ed the couple away from the Snack Bar, having to wipe down the counter from where Eddie was sitting after being hoisted up by Richie who would stand between his thighs as they kissed, Eddie’s back crushing the bags of chips set up in a stand. They could been found in the boys’ locker room after every hockey or figure skating practice, which occurred daily as Eddie practiced seven days a week. They had been walked in on in the boys’ bathroom, in the hallway between the lobby and the locker rooms, and up against the pinball machine that little kids would beg their parents for change to use while their older siblings were on the ice. Patrons often left the arena after hockey practices and recreational free skates in the evenings to find the pair wrapped around each other and leaning against the hood of Richie’s beat up old card. They had even been caught on the Zamboni after Richie had gotten a part-time job at the arena, refereeing peewee hockey games and driving the Zamboni between games. It seemed as though the only place the two hadn’t been caught was on the bleachers seeing as whenever one of them was sat on one of the rink’s tiered benches, the other was behind the glass, whipping past on skates. 

Richie watched Eddie go back to his coach, grinning when his coach demanded Eddie practice one more footwork sequence. Richie knew that it was Eddie’s least favourite part of figure skating and thought it was completely useless. This of course meant that his coach insisted on him practicing his footwork constantly. He could practically see the scowl and pink face he knew Eddie was sporting, even though he was turned away from Richie and the rest of the hockey team, embarrassed that he was being forced to perform what he considered the girly part of the sport in front of the hyper-masculine hockey players. Eddie hated the dramatic and artistic moves that were expected of figure skaters, often cutting them out of his routines as much as possible and instead loading them with technical jumps. This often hurt him in competitions as judging in the figure skating world was very corrupt, meaning that he would receive lower scores for flawless technical skates because he wasn’t as graceful and artistic in his skating. This was something that frustrated Eddie to no end, Richie had listened to countless rants on the topic in his lifetime, and so his coach had convinced him that they needed to work on it if he ever wanted to get to the Olympic team. 

Richie thought it was adorable, the slightly stiff Eddie trying to gracefully move his arms like a ballet dancer to the music of his new routine, but he knew that figure skating wasn’t as easy as his teammates sometimes made it out to be. Eddie was an incredible athlete and could out-skate every individual on Richie’s hockey team, including himself even though he would deny it until the day he died. 

“Okay, Edward. Time’s up for today. I’ll see you tomorrow at 5,” Richie heard Eddie’s coach tell him as the two made their way to the exit near Richie. 

“Thirsty, babe?” Richie asked, watching Eddie’s chest rise and fall. Although the boy had been building his stamina, Richie still worried about Eddie’s asthma. Richie held out his water bottle with an amusingly long straw to fit through his cage that was chewed and discoloured from use. 

“Get that thing away from me Richie,” Eddie whined, his face contorting in disgust. 

“Hey, Susan!” Richie exclaimed, turning his attention to the middle-aged woman nearby. 

“Richard,” Susan, Eddie’s coach gave him a withering look before handing Eddie his blade guards. She wasn’t a big fan of Eddie’s loud and obnoxious boyfriend who, although incredibly supportive, constantly interrupted her practices. 

“Spaghetti’s looking great out there, huh?”

Eddie blushed bright pink, straightening up once his blade guards were secured and hitting Richie in the chest embarrassedly. Richie barely even noticed the impact through his hockey equipment. 

“Yes, Edward is right on track for next week’s competition.”

“You’ll be there, right Chee?” Eddie whispered, looking up at Richie with a hopeful expression, embarrassment at the use of the pet name gone. Eddie’s fingers were curled in Richie’s jersey and Richie had his arm around Eddie’s back holding him to Richie’s chest. 

“Of course, bug. Wouldn’t miss it! I think ol’ Wentworth is even coming!”

Eddie smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkling happily. 

“Well I’m gonna go change then I’ll watch your game, okay?” Eddie asked, as if that wasn’t what the boys did three times a week when Richie’s team had games. “Good luck,” Eddie added, reaching up and pressing a kiss to Richie’s cheek. “And no fights, I’m serious Richie!” 

Richie rolled his eyes at Eddie’s reminder. They both knew that it was highly unlikely the game would end without Richie getting into at least one fight, after slashing or cross-checking an opposing player. Richie was talented, playing forward for as long as he could remember, but he was also a goon, spending a significant amount of time in the box for penalties, which suited Richie’s chaotic personality perfectly. While aggressive players were often highly valued by their team, they typically didn’t have much in terms of skill, a trend which Richie did not follow. He would often check players into the boards after the opposing team scored, provoking an uproarious fight and finding himself in the penalty box, which Eddie had taken to seating himself near to so he could loudly scold Richie. Then, as soon as his penalty was over he would bolt out of the box, throwing a ‘love you’ over his shoulder at Eddie, and rushing into the play to score a goal within seconds.  
Richie goofily watched Eddie head towards the door to the locker room while the Zamboni cleared the ice for the hockey team. 

“He’s going to make the team this year, Richard.” Susan spoke, pulling Richie from his thoughts about Eddie’s ass in his training leggings. 

“What?”

“The Olympic team,” Susan clarified. “He’s going to make it this year, without a doubt. He’s convinced he isn’t there yet, but I can see it. He’s improved so much over the last few months.”

“I know,” Richie smiled, proud of his talented little ball of energy. 

“He’s one of the best technical skaters I’ve ever seen,” Susan continued. “Richard, I think it has a lot to do with you.”

“Me?” Richie asked, dumbfounded. “All I do is distract him, what are you talking about?”

“No,” Susan began. “His skating improves tenfold whenever you’re around. He just oozes confidence. I know Sonia has been against Eddie skating since he was little, when you two showed up together at my beginner skating lessons. The woman has done nothing but tear his confidence down, making him second guess the sport and worry about hurting himself, but skating is Eddie’s life. His passion.” Richie smiled, knowing that Eddie would be lost without skating. The boy had worked part-time jobs, stolen cash from his mom’s purse, and begrudgingly accepted cheques from Richie’s parents since he was 8 years old in order to pay for his lessons with Susan. “Your support, your family’s support, it means more to him than I think you realise, Richard.”

Richie nodded, swallowing the growing lump in his throat and looking down at his skates while he fiddled nervously with his hockey stick. 

“He’s very lucky to have you,” Susan told Richie, a warm smile on her face that surprised Richie. 

“No,” Richie whispered, shaking his head. “I’m way luckier to have him.”

Susan laughed at the teenage boy before leaving the rink and heading towards the stairs leading to her second-floor office. 

“Tozier, get your ass on the ice!”

Richie looked away from Susan’s retreating form, surprised by his coach’s loud command and quickly took to the ice, joining his team in some drills. 

The warm up continued as usual, the team doing laps around the ice before taking shots on net to help their goalie warm up. The opposing team had also joined them on the ice, warming up down the other end of the rink. Henry Bowers, the opposing team’s own resident goon, had been taunting Richie for the past 10 minutes, frustrating Richie to no end. He couldn’t get into a fight and be suspended from the game before it even started. 

“Hey, Tozier,” Henry yelled. “Where’s your faggot boyfriend?” Henry did a wobbly skip on his skates, flouncing around obnoxiously, clearly trying to make fun of Eddie for figure skating. 

Richie ground his teeth together angrily, turning away from Bowers. 

“I’m fucking talking to you, ass bandit!” 

Richie turned angrily, receiving a hard smack in the jaw from Henry’s stick. 

“Fuck!” Richie shouted, spitting blood onto the ice. “I’m gonna fucking-“

“Richard Tozier!” 

Richie turned from Henry, who was now being pushed around by most of Richie’s team, towards the shrill yelling of his name. 

“Fuck,” Richie muttered, skating slowly towards the bench where Eddie stood near his coach, fuming. “Spaghetti-“

“Where the fuck is your mouth guard, Richard?” Eddie demanded, arms crossed as he stared up at Richie who was leaning against the boards in front of Eddie. 

“Eds, you know I don’t like-“

“I don’t care Richie, you need to wear your mouth guard! I’ve told you a million times!” Eddie shrieked, cutting Richie off for the third time. 

“But-“

“No buts, Richie,” Eddie cut him off again. “You go and get your mouth guard right now! I will never kiss you again if you lose a tooth you meathead!”

Richie sighed, but skated towards the door that his coach was holding open for him to make his way back to the locker room to get his mouth guard. 

Richie returned a few minutes later.

“Happy, Eddie?” Richie garbled around his mouth guard, smiling widely to show off his neon pink mouth guard. 

Eddie hummed noncommittally, turning his attention back to the ice. 

“You’re the worst!” Richie grumbled, wrapping his arms around Eddie from behind and hoisting him up to sit on the player bench near Richie’s hockey coach. 

“Richie!” Eddie shouted, flailing to get away from his lumbering boyfriend. 

Richie’s coach would let Eddie sit in their box whenever he wanted as he motivated not only Richie, but the whole team. He would spend the entire game, screeching at the players on the ice about what they were doing wrong and which players on the other team were vulnerable. 

“I’ll see ya after the game, okay Spaghetti?” Richie joked, bonking his helmet into Eddie’s forehead softly causing Eddie to let out a traitorous giggle. 

“Whatever,” Eddie grumbled, unsuccessfully trying to hold back a grin. 

“Love you too!”


	2. Chapter 2

Richie winced, rubbing small circles into Eddie’s chest as the smaller boy’s frame shook with his hacking coughs. He leaned forward pressing a soft kiss to Eddie’s warm forehead as he sucked in wheezy breaths, tears gathering in the corners of his eyes.

It was far from Eddie’s first run in with asthmatic bronchitis, he had grown up spending a few weeks each winter hacking and wheezing in his bed after picking up viruses and bacteria like all kids do at school and from his friends, but as he had gotten older the bouts of bronchitis had become fewer.

“Chee,” Eddie moaned, voice a few octaves deeper than normal due to his irritated throat, sending himself into another coughing fit.

“Shh,” Richie soothed, laying on his side, head propped on a bent arm as he stared down at Eddie continuing to massage his boyfriend’s chest as it heaved.

Eddie whimpered once his coughing had stopped, rolling onto his side and pressing himself against Richie’s front, face hidden in his chest as he tried to catch his breath.

“C’mere, bug,” Richie whispered, rolling onto his back and quickly pulling Eddie to rest on top of him in order to quiet the whines that Eddie had begun letting out when Richie had pulled away from him. “Shh,” Richie hummed again, lips pressed to Eddie’s forehead as he rubbed a hand up and down the length of Eddie’s back, the other hand playing with the slightly damp curls at the nape of Eddie’s neck.

Eddie’s breathing slowed and Richie could feel his racing heartbeat return to a steady pace as Eddie fell into unconsciousness, breath quicker and more wheezy than normal. Eddie’s body shook in his sleep as he let out hard, painful coughs every few minutes.

* * *

 

“Boys?” Maggie Tozier asked quietly, peeking her head into Richie’s room. 

“Hey, mom,” Richie responded, voice equally soft. “Eddie’s finally sleeping,” he explained. 

Maggie sighed, approaching the boys and sitting on the edge of Richie’s bed softly. “Poor thing,” she tutted sadly, reaching out to place her hand on Eddie’s back, resuming Richie’s previous actions, his hands now holding Eddie’s hips securely in place. “I have his next dose,” Maggie indicated to the bottle of cough medicine in her other hand.

“But he literally just fell asleep, mom,” Richie groaned, not wanting to wake Eddie up.

“I can hear him coughing from the kitchen, Richie,” Maggie chided. “And he’s got quite the fever. He needs to take some medicine so he can sleep through the night.” 

Richie sighed, knowing Eddie needed proper rest for tomorrow.

“Eddie? Baby?” Richie murmured, rubbing Eddie’s hips and kissing at his forehead. Richie’s heart thumped as Eddie’s eyelids fluttered and he whimpered, nuzzling his face against Richie’s shirt. “Bug, c’mon. You gotta get up and have some medicine.”

Richie pushed himself into a sitting position, pulling Eddie up with him so he was straddling Richie’s lap. Eddie mumbled tiredly, hiding his face in Richie’s neck.

“C’mon, s’ghetti,” Richie laughed, bringing a hand up to rub at the back of Eddie’s admittedly warm neck.

“Chee,” Eddie whined, breaking off into a ragged cough.

“It’ll be quick, Eddie,” Maggie spoke. 

Normally Eddie would have been mortified for Mrs. Tozier to find him and Richie cuddled in Richie’s bed, calling each other by cutesy nicknames, but tonight he was too lightheaded and confused from the coughing and fever to care.

“Here,” Maggie said, measuring out a dose of medicine and handing it to Richie. 

“Hey, c’mon out,” Richie whispered, neck twisted so he could lean down and speak directly into Eddie’s ear.

“Don’t wanna,” Eddie murmured, lips tickling the skin of Richie’s neck.

“Bug,” Richie sighed, shrugging Eddie off of his shoulder and leaning Eddie away from him enough to see his face. “Open up,” he laughed at Eddie’s clenched jaw. Eddie parted his lips slowly, grimacing as Richie tipped the medicine into his mouth.

“Water,” Eddie gurgled around the purple liquid in his mouth, before swallowing the bitter medicine.

Richie pressed the glass of water he had already picked up from his night stand to Eddie’s lips, smiling as Eddie swallowed a few gulps before collapsing against Richie’s shoulder again.

“Good boy, bug,” Richie whispered into Eddie’s ear so his mom couldn’t hear him as he leaned back against his pillow and pulling Eddie down on top of him again. Eddie hummed happily, breathing evening out as his exhausted body was wrapped in sleep once again. While Richie didn’t want his boyfriend to be sick, he did enjoy how needy and pliant Eddie was when he was sick.

“Did you talk to his mom?” Richie asked, eyes locked on the top of Eddie’s head.

“Mhm,” Maggie hummed. “She’s not pleased with him.”

“That bitch is never happy,” Richie rolled his eyes, grumbling.

“Richard,” Maggie scolded softly. “He hasn’t been home for two days and didn’t even tell her his asthma had been bothering him.”

“Yeah, well he didn’t tell anyone until he literally couldn’t breathe. Not even me. Not with the competition tomorrow.”

“She’s his mother.”

“Whatever,” Richie muttered, pulling Eddie’s hips closer towards him causing Eddie to let out a little whimper in his sleep.

“I don’t think it’s a very good idea to go tomorrow,” Maggie continued, voice quiet and unassuming, not wanting to upset Richie.

“If Eddie wants to compete, he’s competing,” Richie repeated for the third time that day, the first two times had been over the phone to Eddie’s coach and to his mother. Eddie had qualified for the U.S. Figure Skating Championships at Sectionals a month previous and the competition was tomorrow. 

“Richie, sweetie, listen to him,” Maggie pressed, pausing to allow the sound of Eddie’s loud wheezing breaths to fill the room. “You know he won’t be able to compete with how he’s breathing. He’s going to have an attack out on the ice.”

Richie bristled, irritated with his mother’s lack of confidence in Eddie’s ability, but the worry gnawing on the periphery of his mind was starting to swallow him whole as he imagined Eddie having an asthma attack in the middle of his free skate. 

“It’s his choice, mom,” Richie whispered, hands gliding up Eddie’s back and crossing over his shoulders, hugging him tightly to Richie’s chest.

Maggie sighed and nodded, leaning over to press a kiss to Richie’s curls and Eddie’s cheek.

As Richie’s bedroom door creaked shut he squeezed Eddie briefly, pressing soft kisses to Eddie’s hair as he listened to his boyfriend’s painful sounding breaths.

* * *

Richie jolted awake to the sound of Eddie’s choking coughs, watching as Eddie pushed himself up and off of Richie’s chest into a sitting position, leaning back against the wall Richie’s bed was pushed up against. Richie rolled onto his side, propping himself up to watch Eddie as he rested a hand on Eddie’s knee, rubbing circles into his leg with his thumb.

Eddie inhaled gaspingly, looking and sounding like he was coming up for air after a deep dive.

“Do you need your puffer, bug?” Richie asked, pushing himself up to kneel in front of Eddie. Eddie nodded, eyes squeezed shut as he gasped on every inhale, gulping for breath. Richie reached across his bed to grab the medicine from his night stand. “Open,” Richie coaxed, running his thumb over Eddie’s bottom lip as he shook the plastic canister briefly before nudging his lip with the mouthpiece of the blue inhaler.

Eddie opened his mouth, head tilted back and eyes still closed as he exhaled before closing his mouth tightly around the plastic and nodded slightly as he began breathing in, signalling for Richie to press down on the top of the canister. Richie watched as Eddie breathed in the medicine, pulling the device from his boyfriend’s lips once he knew Eddie’s lungs had reached their full capacity, and sat back on his heels waiting while Eddie held the medication in his lungs. 

“You good, Spaghetti?” Richie asked, reaching a hand out to stroke Eddie’s cheek. Eddie nodded, grimacing at the bitter taste the medication had left in his mouth.

Richie leant forward, moving to capture Eddie in a kiss only to be stopped by Eddie’s palm covering his mouth and chin. Richie whined slightly making Eddie’s lips quirk.

“I gotta go brush my teeth,” Eddie responded, opening his eyes. “My mouth tastes like absolute shit.”

“I beg to differ,” Richie whispered into Eddie’s ear after pushing Eddie’s hand away from his mouth. He settled with placing a soft peck to Eddie’s cheek before leaning back to let Eddie climb off his bed and head to the washroom.

* * *

 

“Good morning,” Maggie chirped when the boys entered the kitchen, flipping a chocolate chip pancake in the pan set atop the stove. “How are you feeling sweetie?”

It wasn’t weird for Eddie to spend the night at the Toziers’, so Maggie’s greeting wasn’t out of place, but Eddie blushed crimson in spite of himself, remembering Maggie coming into Richie’s room the previous night. The boys had always tried to keep up the pretense that Eddie slept on the floor in his sleeping bag when he slept over. 

“Um, fine,” Eddie squeaked, sitting in the chair next to Richie’s.

“Hm, well… I’m not sure how good of an idea it is for you to skate this afternoon.” 

“No, I’ll be fi-” Eddie’s hurried protests were interrupted by a cough that he tried to stifle, leading to choked sounds that made his eyes water. 

“Hmm,” Maggie hummed again, setting down a glass of water and a small cup of medicine in front of Eddie, not verbalizing her disapproval but making it clear with her expression. 

“Spaghetti,” Richie scolded, picking up the glass of water and pressing it to Eddie’s lips, other hand reaching into his pocket as he contemplated asking Eddie if he needed his inhaler. “I told you to not to do that! If you have to cough, cough. You know it hurts if you don’t.”

“It hurts whether I cough or not, Rich,” Eddie gasped, snatching the glass of water from Richie and glaring at him for trying to baby him. Richie briefly wished for soft Eddie to make a reappearance.

Richie chewed on his lower lip, watching as Eddie took the cough medicine like a shot, choking at the bitter taste before downing the rest of the water in the glass in front of him. The closer they got to the competition, the more he was beginning to agree with everyone else that Eddie shouldn’t be skating today.

* * *

 

The Toziers and Eddie piled into Wentworth’s car as the sun began to rise, Eddie’s completion bag stuffed into the trunk while he snuggled into Richie’s side in the back seat. Eddie chewed nervously on the inside of his cheek, letting out coughs every few minutes, and picking at his cuticles while one of his legs bounced up and down, listening to Wentworth grumble about having to get up so early. Eddie knew he was just grumpy in the mornings and not actually upset about having to attend Eddie’s competition.

As they neared the venue where the nation-wide competition was being held, Eddie’s anxiety reached a crescendo, knee bouncing quicker as his breathing picked up, triggering even more incessant coughing.

Eddie hissed and swore quietly as he ripped a rather large chunk of his cuticle causing his thumb to bleed, pulling his thumb to his mouth before Richie intercepted it. Richie brought Eddie’s hand to his mouth, kissing it before scolding Eddie lightly for picking at his nails.  

Eddie responded with a cough, before hiding his face in Richie’s shoulder as Maggie twisted in her seat to watch them.

* * *

Susan and Richie stood next to each other, watching Eddie skate around the edge of the rink, warming up as the stands filled and the audience hummed with excitement. 

Richie watched Eddie closely, squinting angrily at the way Eddie’s chest heaved and jumped slightly as he coughed discretely. To the average spectator Eddie looked fine, but Richie and Susan both knew Eddie was struggling.

“How is he really?” Susan asked, eyes still following Eddie.

“Honestly?” Richie asked with a sigh, watching Susan nod out of the corner of his eye. “He hasn’t really slept for days, he just spends the whole night coughing. He can barely climb a flight of stairs without coughing up a lung. He’s not doing good, Susan.” Susan swore quietly.

“He shouldn’t be out there then. He should be resting. There’s always next year.”

Richie laughed drily.

“Are you sure you’ve been Eddie’s coach all these years? _My_ Eddie Spaghetti?” Richie asked. “There is no next year. He wants to win now, but he would have preferred to win yesterday. He’s not gonna sit out of Nationals and wait ‘till next year.” 

Susan smiled sadly and nodded her head in agreement, turning her attention to Eddie who was just about to step off the ice as the competition was about to begin. Typically, Eddie would ignore Richie before a competition, focusing only on the direction Susan gave him, only sparing Richie a kiss and a quick smile of thanks when Richie wished him good luck before his program.

Today, however, Eddie stumbled off the ice, eyes wild with panic as his hands flailed in front of him. He looked to Richie, chest heaving but unable to get any words out and just kept waving his hands around wildly.

“Shit,” Richie swore, pulling out the inhaler he had stashed in his pocket and shaking it before pulling off the cap and pushing the mouthpiece between Eddie’s lips. “Baby…” Richie mumbled helplessly, watching his boyfriend nervously. They had gained the attention of most of the skaters and coaches around them. Richie backed Eddie against a wall, shielding him from their view, knowing Eddie hated when people watched him have an asthma attack.

Richie rubbed Eddie’s back as Eddie leant his forehead against Richie’s chest, fingers curling in the front of his t-shirt. It was far from the worst asthma attack Richie had ever seen Eddie have, he had once watched him be taken away in an ambulance when they were twelve when Eddie’s airway had filled with so much sticky mucus that the medicine from his inhaler couldn’t reach his lungs. He was still scared for his boyfriend though, knowing that pushing his body right now could make matters worse. 

“Bug, I dunno about this,” Richie whispered, pressing kisses to Eddie’s hair.

Eddie continued to wheeze, gulping in air as he tried to regulate his breathing. He shook his head at Richie’s clear insinuation that he shouldn’t compete.

Richie sighed, resigning himself to the fact that Eddie would be competing today no matter what anyone said. He held his boyfriend, trying to calm him down as much as possible before he had to get on the ice, rubbing at his tense neck.

“Eddie,” came Susan’s soft voice from behind Richie. The two boys turned to her. “You’re up next.”

Eddie nodded, swallowing before pushing himself up from leaning against the wall behind him.

* * *

Richie stood next to Susan, watching as Eddie skated a lap around the ice while he was announced, chewing on his thumbnail nervously. This was always going to be a nerve wracking program for Eddie as it was the next step to his qualification for Worlds and hopefully the Olympic team, but with his asthmatic bronchitis it was worse than anyone expected.

_“_ _Representing the Skating Club of Derry in Derry, Maine, ladies and gentleman, Eddie Kaspbrak!_ _”_

Eddie put on a fake grin as the audience cheered, coming to a stop in the centre of the rink as he waited for his music to start.

“C’mon, bug, c’mon,” Richie chanted under his breath as he watched Eddie move into his first jump.

“Big lean,” he heard Susan hiss under her breath unhappily, shaking her head as he landed shakily.

Richie ignored her, focusing as Eddie completed his next combination flawlessly. He could tell Eddie was struggling for breath, chest heaving and face paler than normal. Richie prepared for the next jump with baited breath and heard Susan tut when Eddie didn’t even try to attempt the jump.

“He’s tired,” Richie muttered angrily, irritated with Susan’s disappointment.

“I know, Richard,” Susan hissed back, attempting to keep a neutral face.

“Give him a break th- oh!” Richie cut himself off as Eddie’s legs slipped out from under him as he tried to land his triple axel. Richie lurched forward, wanting to sprint out onto the ice as he watched Eddie land on his hip before pushing himself up quickly, face crumpling for a flicker of a second before he painted on another fake smile.

Richie watched sadly as Eddie quickly finished a rushed and simplified version of his original program, spinning to a stop in the centre of the ice. Richie clapped, smiling proudly at Eddie as he skated off the ice making constant eye contact with Richie. His face was neutral but Richie could tell Eddie was struggling for breath, lips slightly blue, and that he was upset with his skate. Richie pulled the inhaler from his pocket shaking it discretely so it was ready as soon as Eddie stepped off the ice.

Eddie gulped, pushing past the cameras that were waiting near the edge of the rink, holding his chest as he gasped for breath and rushed towards Richie, ignoring the stare of the audience and cameras for the first time in his life.

“Chee,” Eddie croaked, face crumpling. Richie pulled Eddie to his chest quickly, slipping the inhaler into Eddie’s hand and moving him to their previous spot so he could take a puff of the medication without anyone seeing.

“You did so well,” Richie soothed, rubbing Eddie shoulders as he caught his breath. “I’m so proud of you for going out there.”

Eddie shook his head defiantly, entirely disappointed in his performance.

“C’mon, bug,” Richie murmured. “Gotta go get your score and shit.” 

Richie pulled Eddie back towards Susan and the two hugged briefly before Richie was helping Eddie pull on a sweater, which Richie had wanted to put on him since he saw Eddie shiver before his skate.

“You did your best, Eddie,” Susan spoke gently causing Eddie to scowl.

“There’s no way I’m gonna qualify,” Eddie dismissed, smiling as the cameras panned over to him as they waited for his score to be announced.

The crowd cheered supportively as his score was announced. His nails dug into Richie’s knee, causing Richie to wince painfully. 

“It’s okay, babe,” Richie murmured, pulling Eddie’s hand from his knee and lacing their fingers together.

“I got a fucking 79.23, Richie!” Eddie hissed. “That’s like, 15 points lower than I usually get!”

Eddie’s face burned crimson at the pitying cheers of the crowd and he stood and pushed past Richie to head to the change rooms.

* * *

 

“Eds,” Richie called, following him through the hallway watching as other skaters congratulated him. “Spaghetti!”

Richie finally caught up to him, grabbing his wrist and pulling him to a stop.

“I’m humiliated, Chee,” Eddie blurted, tears springing to his eyes as he pushed his face into Richie’s chest. 

“Eds,” Richie sighed, wrapping his arms around Eddie’s back. “Baby… Look at me.”

Eddie pulled away from Richie slightly, wiping at his tears and coughing slightly.

“You’re sick,” Richie started, causing Eddie to break eye contact as he thought about all the times his mother had said that to him. “Bug, please,” Riche whispered, taking his chin between two fingers and forcing him to look at Richie. “You’re really sick right now. Like, for real sick. You can barely fucking breathe and you still did amazing!”

“No, I didn’t-”

“So, it wasn’t your best skate ever,” Richie interrupted. “You still kicked all their asses,” Richie indicated over his shoulder towards the hallway of men dressed in varying levels of bejewel spandex. “You’re amazing.”

“Thanks,” Eddie croaked, hiding his face in Richie’s neck and hugging him desperately.

“You’re welcome, bug,” Richie whispered, kissing the crown of his head. “And if it’s any consolation, you definitely have the best ass in the whole competition.”

“Richie!” Eddie laughed, smacking Richie’s chest lightly but not moving his face from its spot in the crook of his neck.

“Seriously,” Richie continued. “Like, I was worried about you of course but the whole time I was thinking about how much I just wanted to burry my dick in that ass-”

“Oh, my God! Richie!” Eddie shrieked, looking around to make sure no one else had heard what Richie had said.

“Oh, don’t be such a prude!” Richie joked, squeezing Eddie’s hips teasingly.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> just a short little fluffy-fluff

“Well, hello there, stranger,” Eddie whispered into Richie’s ear playfully as he wrapped his arms around Richie’s shoulders from behind.

“Someone’s happy,” Richie teased, leaning back into Eddie’s chest and looking up at him upside down.

Wentworth plopped down beside Richie, sighing when he realised that the ice dancing was still happening. Eddie and the Toziers were currently at the 1993 World Figure Skating Championships. Eddie had just barely qualified at Nationals and had just earned a bronze medal at Worlds, coming third to  _'those damn Canadians_ ' as Wentworth playfully referred to them.  

Mr. Tozier had gone to help Eddie stow away his competition bag in their rental car while Richie sat with his mom who insisted they stay to watch the ice dancing. 

“Mhm,” Eddie hummed happily, face flushed and a lazy grin gracing his features. He was officially on the U.S. Olympic figure skating team for the 1994 Lillehammer games. 

“Scooch, pops,” Richie said, nodding at his dad to move over and twisting on the bench he was sitting on to pull Eddie over the front of it and into his lap. “C’mere, Mr. Smiley,” Richie chuckled, thoroughly enjoying how giddy Eddie was. He had been an nervous wreck for weeks, snapping at Richie and scowling at everyone. 

“Richie!” Eddie scolded, his reprimand losing all of its heat as he giggled.

“That’s m'name,” Richie joked, pulling Eddie’s back to his chest and wrapping his arms around Eddie’s torso happily, resting his chin on his shoulder as they watched the final event of the competition.

“Oksana and Evgeni are insane,” Eddie hummed, watching the talented Russian pair whip around the rink.

“I mean,” Richie commented vaguely, voice loud and obnoxious. “They're not that impressive, we could definitely do that.”

Eddie let out a snort, covering his face and leaning back into Richie as he tried to quell his peals of laughter. 

“What’s so funny, Eddie Spaghetti?” Richie asked, grinning down at his boyfriend while his parents watched them out of the corners of their eyes, small smiles on their lips.

“We… could… not!” Eddie gasped between laughs.

“What? We so could!” 

“Richie, I can’t dance to save my life and you don’t have anywhere near the technical skill to ever pull it off!”

“Hey!” Richie shouted indignantly. “Is that a dig on my skating abilities?” Richie laughed, digging his fingers into Eddie’s sides making the smaller boy wriggle in his lap and giggle, simultaneously leaning back into Richie while also trying to get away from him.

“Yes!” Eddie cried back with playful defiance.

“You’re lucky you’re cute,” Richie commented, feigning a scowl as Eddie laughed into his neck, arms wrapped around Richie’s neck making him smile despite himself. 

“Hey, you two,” Wentworth interrupted. “Quit making a spectacle of yourselves, would ya?” he joked, a teasing smile playing on his lips as Eddie pulled back from Richie’s neck with a blush, quieting his giggles.

“No can do, Went,” Richie responded. “You know making a spectacle of myself is what I do best!" 

“You’re not wrong there…” Mrs. Tozier commented, eyes still following the pair on the ice as she spoke with a smile.

* * *

“Very good, Edward,” Susan called, making her way off the ice. “That’s all for tonight. Go get some rest and I’ll see you tomorrow afternoon.”

Eddie nodded, chest heaving as he skated around the perimeter of the rink to cool down following his late-night practice. They were practically the only people in the rink, the only other person being Richie who had offered to close the arena for his manager since Eddie was practicing so late and needed a ride home.

Eddie jumped, wobbling on his skates as a pop-y tune blasted through the rink over the loud speakers.

“What the fuck?” Eddie whispered, head whipping around to look for the source of the music and landing on a grinning Richie, skating towards him in jeans and a sweater. “Richie, what the hell?” 

“Fancy meeting you here, my good sir,” Richie called, skidding to a stop and spraying Eddie’s legs with ice.

“Richie!”

“Sorry, babe,” he laughed, reaching out to take each of Eddie’s hands in his own. “It’s tradition.” 

“Drenching me in ice is not a tradition, jackass,” Eddie laughed, letting Richie pull him in for a kiss. “What’s going on, Rich?” Eddie asked, pulling back from Richie slightly.

“Oh!” Richie exclaimed, as if he had forgotten what he was doing on the ice with Eddie. “We’re proving you wrong!” 

“What?”

“Remember when you said we couldn’t ice dance?”

“Rich,” Eddie groaned, trying to pull his hands from Richie’s grip.

“Nuh uh,” Richie smiled, squeezing Eddie’s hands tighter. “Come on, let’s do it.”

Richie pulled Eddie closer to him, the smaller boy gliding easily across the ice to close the distance between their chests before rearranging their hands so Richie was holding Eddie’s waist in one hand and his outstretched hand in the other. 

“This is ridiculous,” Eddie grumbled as they began shuffling gracelessly in the middle of the rink.

“It’s romantic,” Richie drawled, moving to dip Eddie dramatically.

“Richie!” Eddie screeched as he felt Richie’s center of balance shift, knowing that the taller boy was going to fall right before Richie’s legs slipped out from under him. 

“Oof!” Richie groaned, landing on his tailbone and pulling Eddie down on top of him in the process. 

“So smooth, Rich,” Eddie laughed, disentangling himself from Richie’s long limbs and pushing himself up from the ice before helping Richie up.

“Hey, I can’t help it if I’m falling for you, Eds,” Richie crooned, pouting his lips at Eddie comically.

“You’re ridiculous,” Eddie laughed, pushing Richie’s face away from him.

“You love it,” Richie grinned as Eddie rolled his eyes in response. “C’mon, let’s go again!” 

“Ugh.”

* * *

 Richie had admittedly improved slightly over the last few minutes, shuffling and keeping his center of balance in check.

“Hey, I think we’re getting the hang of it,” Richie grinned, staring down at his feet as he spoke. “Let’s do one of those lift things!”

“Richie, no! Richie!” Eddie screeched, face panicked and arms flailing as Richie took hold of Eddie’s waist, lifting him up off the ice and over his head as if they were Baby and Johnny in Dirty Dancing. The only difference was Eddie’s flailing limbs, two of which had razor sharp blades affixed to them. “Richie! Put me down! I swear to God, Richie!”

“Richard! Do not break my skater!”

Richie started at the sound of Susan yelling at him from the edge of the ice, pitching backwards and falling onto his back, Eddie landing on top of him with a thud.

“Oh, my God!” Eddie screamed, pushing up off of Richie. “You absolute fucking idiot!” 

“Eds-“

“Why the fuck would you do that?!” Eddie plowed on, glaring down at Richie. Richie sighed to himself, wincing at the pain he could feel radiating from his tailbone. It would definitely be bruised tomorrow morning. Until then he would have to endure Eddie’s lecturing about how he could have injured Eddie while he was in the middle of training for the Olympics.

“I’m sorry-“ 

“You aren’t trained for lifts, Richie! Do you know how badly you could have hurt yourself?” 

“What?” 

“You could have hurt your back or pulled a muscle,” Eddie continued, still glaring down at his boyfriend. “You know there are scouts at your games for the Junior team right now. You can’t afford to get injured by being a dumbass!” 

Richie burst out laughing. 

“This isn’t funny!” 

“No, no,” Richie continued laughing, pushing himself up off the ice. “Sorry, I just thought you were mad that I almost got _you_  hurt.”

“Oh, honey,” Eddie chuckled, grabbing one of Richie’s arms and smiling at him patronizingly. “Didn’t you hear? I’m an Olympian, I can handle much worse than a tumble from some idiot who thinks he’s Evgeni Platov’s noodle arms!”

“Hey!” Richie shouted at Eddie’s back as he began skating towards Susan.


	4. Chapter 4

Eddie stood between Went and Maggie, jumping and screaming at the top of his lungs as the United States men’s national junior team was awarded silver in the 1994 World Junior Ice Hockey Championships. 

Eddie had spent the last two months arguing and pleading with his mother for her permission to travel to the tournament in the Czech Republic with the Toziers over the Christmas holidays. While Eddie often traveled for various competitions and tournaments with the Toziers, he had never missed spending a holiday at home with his mother.

As Eddie stood in the arena filled with deafening cheers he couldn’t help but think the two months of absolute hell at home had been worth it.

The opposing teams were lined up at opposite ends of the rink to receive their respective medals. Despite the crushing loss that the American team had faced, they were incredibly proud of their second place standing behind the Canadian team.

Eddie felt himself laugh as he watched Richie stand amongst his teammates, grinning and joking around once he had received his medal. He was beyond proud of his curly-haired idiot. 

* * *

 

“Congrats!” Eddie shrieked, throwing his arms around Richie’s neck as soon as he was close enough to do so.

The team was spilling out of their change room nearly 30 minutes later, into the hallway where their family and friends awaited them.

“Mm,” Richie hummed, pressing a kiss to Eddie’s lips. “Thanks, bug. So, does this mean I’m gonna get lucky tonight?”

“Richie!” Eddie laughed, hitting his chest and pushing him away before stepping aside, to let Richie’s parents hug and congratulate him.

“So, everyone’s going for dinner and then out to celebrate after, do you guys wanna go?” Richie asked, throwing his arm across Eddie’s shoulders. 

“We’re pretty tired,” Went responded, looking down at Maggie. Maggie was a recovering alcoholic and he didn’t want to put her in an uncomfortable situation. “We’ll come to dinner but then we’re gonna head back to the hotel. You guys should go though.” 

“What d’ya say, Spaghetti?” Richie asked, grinning down at Eddie. The legal drinking age in Czech Republic was 18, but Richie’s teammates were convinced they would all get served anyways. 

“Sure!”

* * *

 

Eddie giggled, leaning heavily against Richie and pushing him against the wall of a hallway in their hotel.

“Mm, wanna fuck you s’bad,” Richie slurred as he pressed kisses to Eddie’s neck causing Eddie to sigh. His voice was slightly husky from all the celebrating he had done with his teammates at the dive bar they had stumbled across.

While it hadn’t been the first time either of the two had ever consumed alcohol, it was the first time they had ever consumed so much alcohol in one sitting. At home the losers were typically stuck sharing a couple of beers or half a bottle of stolen vodka amongst themselves, barely drinking enough to get a good buzz going. 

“Rich,” Eddie whined, louder than he intended to as he had lost control of the pitch and volume of his voice. 

“Hey, Tozier! Shut the fuck up!”

Both boys drunkenly looked up as one of Richie’s teammates’ head popped out of the nearest door, glaring at them.

“Shit, sorry dude!” Richie snorted. “C’mon Eds.”

The two slumped against the door to the double room they were sharing with Richie’s parents, giggling as they searched each of their pockets for the spare key that Richie’s parents had intrusted them with.

“Found it!” Eddie stage-whispered, pulling it out of his back pocket which they had both checked multiple times already and fumbling to open the door with it.

The lock clicked and the two teenagers tumbled through the doorway and into the room, giggling and shushing each other loudly. They stumbled past Maggie and Went who were both, thankfully, still sleeping, stumbling around as they each undressed in a haphazard manner that one uses when their limbs are pleasantly numb.

As they collapsed atop the bed Richie threw a leg over Eddie, straddling his hips and pressing his lips to Eddie’s.

“Chee,” Eddie moaned, fingers curling in Richie’s curls and legs coming up to wrap around Richie’s waist. “Chee, stop.”

“What?” Richie mumbled, pulling back and squinting down at Eddie confusedly.

“We shouldn’t,” Eddie breathed, eyes closed as he gripped Richie’s curls tighter. “Your parents. They’re right there.”

Richie looked up from Eddie’s face and across the three-foot gap between the two double beds with a single nightstand separating the two.

“It’s fine, they’re sleeping,” Richie laughed, moving to press a needy kiss to Eddie’s lips. 

“Mm… Rich… No, stop…” Eddie mumbled weakly between kisses. “Oh,” he moaned out as Richie’s hips shifted, their crotches rubbing together through their boxers. “Chee, we can’t” he moaned again, grinding his hips up into Richie now.

“You’re sending me some pretty fucking mixed signals here, babe,” Richie hissed as he watched Eddie shamelessly rub himself against Richie’s hip.

“Sorry,” Eddie slurred, stopping his movements and dropping his legs and arms to the mattress simultaneously.

Richie groaned, rolling off of Eddie and curling onto his side next to him.

“M’sorry,” Eddie apologized again as Richie wrapped his arms around Eddie’s middle and pulled his back to his chest. He felt Richie’s erection pressed against his ass and felt his muscles clench involuntarily. “We go home t’morrow. I promise, the first night we're back and in your bed and not in the same room as your parents-“

“Shh,” Richie hissed into his ear, quieting Eddie’s tired rambling. “S’okay. Just sleep.” Eddie in response, grabbed a hold of one of Richie’s arms and pulled it up and over his shoulder, snuggling back into Richie and holding Richie’s arm by his face. 

“Love you, Chee,” Eddie mumbled, consciousness starting to fade as the alcohol rushing through his veins calmed him.  

“Love you too, bug.” 

* * *

 

Richie blinked confusedly, turning his head to look around the still dark door. It was barely an hour since the two had come back from the bar and passed out. Eddie was wriggling around in his sleep, having woken Richie up.

“Fuck,” Richie hissed when he felt Eddie push his ass back into Eddie’s dick. The smaller boy was letting out breathy little sighs. He grabbed Eddie’s hip stilling his movements and peering over the boy’s shoulder to see if he was awake. “Fuck, bug,” Richie laughed lightly, shaking his head as he watched his boyfriend pout and struggle against Richie’s grip in his sleep. 

Richie shushed the smaller boy who was now whimpering adorably, bottom lip quivering slightly. He pulled Eddie’s shoulders back into him slightly, bringing Eddie closer to him so he could drape himself over Eddie. He kissed between Eddie’s eyebrows, smiling as the muscles in Eddie’s face relaxed slightly from the touch.

“Chee,” Eddie murmured in his sleep, wriggling to turn into Richie’s chest. Richie loosened his grip slightly, letting Eddie flop over onto his other side and snuggle into Richie’s chest. He felt his chest warm as he hardened slightly with affection and want.

“Mine,” Richie mumbled, pulling Eddie to him tightly and holding him in a possessive display that would have annoyed Eddie.

Eddie responded to the pressure of Richie’s hug by pressing himself against Richie’s thigh, hips moving slightly in his sleep. Richie loosened his grip on Eddie’s shoulder’s slightly, ducking his head down to watch Eddie’s hips move in a messy and uncoordinated way in his sleep.

“Chee,” Eddie sighed again, sending a jolt through Richie. He swallowed, blinking through the surge of arousal coursing through his veins, trying to decide whether or not to wake Eddie up. Eddie began whimpering then, making Richie’s mind up for him. Richie couldn’t passively let this happen, he had to either stop his boyfriend and settle him back to sleep or wake Eddie up to finish what unconscious Eddie had started. 

“Bug,” Richie whispered, in Eddie’s ear as he held one of Eddie’s hips to stop his grinding. “Hey, baby, wake up.”

“Mm, Chee,” Eddie whined, shifting in Richie’s arms as he slowly came to. “S’early.” 

“I know,” Richie laughed, releasing Eddie’s hip and gliding his hands down to grab at Eddie’s ass.

“Uh,” Eddie groaned appreciatively, pressing back into Richie’s hands. “Rich.”

“Shh,” Richie whispered, pressing his lips to Eddie’s to quiet him. “You gotta be quiet,” he whispered, one hand moving to palm Eddie through his boxers.

“Fuck, Richie,” Eddie whined, peaking over his shoulder to check that Richie’s parents were still asleep. 

“Want me to stop?” Richie teased, fingers slipping past the elasticated waistband of Eddie’s boxers. Eddie responded by whimpering as Richie’s cool fingers wrapped around his length, pressing his face into the junction between Richie’s neck and shoulder. “Do you like that, baby?”

“Chee,” Eddie hissed, finger’s gripping Richie’s bicep tightly as his hips rocked slightly. “You know I do.”

Richie smirked smugly.

“Ugh, Chee,” Eddie groaned, teeth clenched. “P-Please.”

“What do you want, baby?” Richie asked, a quizzical smile on his face as he watched Eddie. 

“I-I-I… Ugh, Richie…” Eddie mumbled, losing his train of thought. 

“Eds?”

“Please, I wanna feel you,” Eddie groaned, biting down on his lip as Richie’s wrist flicked quickly.

“Feel me?” Richie teased again, acting as though he wasn’t sure what Eddie was asking for. It was a game they had played for the last year since they had begun having sex. 

“You’re such a fuckin’ dick,” Eddie grumbled, voice hitching as Richie released him and moved his hand lower, letting a finger graze against Eddie’s puckered entrance, muscles clenching rhythmically with arousal.

“M’sorry, bug,” Richie smiled, bringing one hand up to Eddie’s mouth and watching as Eddie took two of his fingers in his mouth, wetting them quickly. Richie pulled his fingers from Eddie’s mouth, grinning at the wet popping sound and pressed his fingers into Eddie hurriedly.  

“Chee,” Eddie moaned, still slightly drunk and unable to regulate his loud voice in the otherwise silent room. Richie clapped his free hand to Eddie’s mouth, both boys watching as the blankets on the other bed shuffled as one of Richie’s parents stirred. 

The laid still, staring at the other bed with wide eyes while Richie continued to curl his fingers within Eddie. Eddie let out an unexpected gush of air as Richie’s fingers brushed against his prostate, eyes squeezing shut in pleasure.

“You gotta be quiet,” Richie whispered teasingly into Eddie’s ear. Eddie nodded in response, unable to form a snarky response.

“M’ready,” Eddie mumbled instead, reaching down to grab Richie’s wrist and push it away. 

“You sure?” Richie hesitated but Eddie’s frantic nod was enough to spur him forward.

Richie pulled Eddie’s back to his chest, resuming their previous position but with their bodies now turned to face the window rather than Richie’s parents’ bed.

Richie snapped his hips quickly, rocking the bed slightly as they both tried to smother the sounds of their breathing and their skin slapping.

“Shh!” 

Richie stilled against Eddie, heart pounding as he pulled Eddie back against him in a tight grip. He felt Eddie tense around him nervously, body rigid as the sound of Went grumbling from the other side of the room snapped them back to reality. 

“Would you two shut up?” 

“S-sorry, dad,” Richie mumbled, voice higher than usual. “We just got back, goin’ to bed.”

“Well, be quiet about it. You’re gonna wake your mother and she doesn’t need to wake up to you two stumbling around drunkenly.” 

“Yeah, sorry,” Richie squeaked before falling silent and laying stock-still, still buried in Eddie and holding him tightly. Eddie was just as still, one hand grabbing Richie’s thigh, nails digging painfully into the soft flesh. Eddie was still clenching around Richie and Richie swore he was going to go blind from the sensation.

Went’s snores began filling the room once more and Richie grasped Eddie’s hand, pulling it away from his thigh.

“Ow! Fuck, Eds,” Richie hissed into his ear. Eddie clenched around him against, clearly still nervous about waking Richie’s parents up. “Baby… you’re gonna kill me.”

Richie quickly went back to his previous movements, snapping his hips into Eddie’s ass as quietly as possible as he stroked Eddie, trying to get them off as quickly as possible. 

* * *

When the two boys woke up the next morning, hungover and bleary eyed, they noticed the room was empty. 

“Am I dead?” Eddie groaned dramatically, wrapping an arm around Richie’s waist and hiding his face in his thigh as Richie pushed himself to sit up. 

“Nah,” Richie responded, rubbing at his neck tiredly. “Think mom n’ dad went to breakfast.”

Eddie’s stomach grumbled in response making Richie laugh.

“C’mon, bug,” Richie grinned, leaning over to wrap his arms under Eddie’s armpits and around his back, pulling him into his lap. 

“Don’t wanna,” Eddie whined, curling his legs up to his chest and hiding his face in Richie’s neck.

* * *

 

“You two look like hell,” Wentworth laughed as Richie and Eddie slumped into the two empty seats at the table where Richie’s parents were sitting in the hotel restaurant. “Rough night?” 

“Mhm,” Richie responded, shoving a slice of toast from the center of the table into his mouth before pouring himself and Eddie glasses of orange juice.

“Well, you sure were loud when you came in,” Wentworth continued with a laugh before standing to go and grab more food from the buffet. 

Eddie’s face flushed crimson at Went’s words as Richie choked on his toast, spilling juice on the white table cloth.

“Richie!” Maggie squawked, pushing back from the table to avoid having juice spilled on her lap and smothering the puddle of juice with a wad of napkins.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know the olympics are over today but GO CANADA GO!


End file.
